


Sun-Kissed in Pine

by verdant_leaves



Series: The Legacy of Azayaka Ha [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Final Fantasy XIV 1.x, Final Fantasy XIV Legacy, Gen, Nonbinary Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:20:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28535028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verdant_leaves/pseuds/verdant_leaves
Summary: Azayaka Ha, future Warrior of Light, meets La'mone Tia, also future Warrior of Light, in what becomes one of Azayaka's more memorable first meetings.
Series: The Legacy of Azayaka Ha [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2090367





	Sun-Kissed in Pine

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place at the end of the 1.x quest "Engineering Victory"

They would never tire of the color, of the aroma hidden within, so few times they had experienced them. They liked to hold the needles between their long fingers, the sticky end leaving sap on their thumb while the sharp point jabbed into their middle finger. They admired the deep green for a few moments before bending the needles to breaking, releasing the sharp, refreshing scent into the air.

It brought a small smile to Azayaka’s face every time, hidden from sight for having their back turned to the rest as they leaned against the tower of the windmill to Millers’ Glade. They rolled the broken needle between their fingers as they looked out upon the landscape of Coerthas, once more taking in the rolling green land dotted with fragrant pine trees against a backdrop of mountains. It put Azayaka at peace, even if for just this moment.

A muffled swear and heavy thump caught their attention, bringing them to cast their eyes over their shoulder. They swept over the ramp leading up, watching as Aergfloh stomped down it, shaking his head. “You won’t be compensated for lost tools,” Azayaka heard Ebrelnaux yell from opposite side of the tower. “And it had better not be broken!” They just caught Aergfloh waving his hand back before disappearing around the front.

Azayaka moved from their place leaning against the wall to follow Aergfloh’s path. They passed Nymiene as they went, though the Elezen was too absorbed in their device to pay the bodyguard any mind. “Azayaka.” They stopped and turned to look at Ebrelnaux’s call. The foreman nodded his head in the Roegadyn’s direction. “He’s fine. You needn’t concern yourself so.”

“My job is to concern myself so,” Azayaka said. They heard Nymiene laugh then.

“If Fraideoux harried himself like you do, he’d have gone gray within a month of bein’ hired on,” she said, finally turning her face up. Though her eyes were hidden behind goggles there was no doubt they were trained on Azayaka; They so often were, when she was not focused on her work.

“I was not aware I was in a harried state,” Azayaka said calmly. Ebrelnaux snickered, quickly hiding it behind his hand. “I merely wish to know at all times where my charges are.” They then turned as new movement caught in their peripheral vision. “Also, when others approach my charges.”

They rested their arm on their katana as they stepped up to the front edge of the windmill, centered between the two ramps leading to it. They pressed their glasses up their nose and focused on the distance where a lone figure crossed Millers’ Glade, their destination clearly the windmill. They kept their sights on them even as Aergfloh returned from retrieving his fallen tool, grumbling about being an expert in imperial weaponry and not on rocks and soil.

“Ok, so maybe harried is the wrong word,” Nymiene admitted from behind, continuing the conversation without missing a beat. “You just never relax. You take your work seriously and we appreciate it but you’ve been this way since I’ve known you; Even for the whole of the seven years you’ve been with the Ironworks, I’m told. You’ve never once lightened up, slacked off, told a joke… Just relax.”

“As someone who oversees Azayaka’s payroll, I rather appreciate their commitment to their job,” Ebrelnaux pointed out. “It would be better to point this out for… _after_ hours, not while we are working.”

Azayaka considered the matter closed when they heard Nymiene grumble and the distinct sound of her boots walking away. They were glad of it as they would rather have the crew without distraction should the approaching stranger be of the questionable sort… And not be alone.

As the stranger approached Azayaka was able to discern things about them. They were a tan Miqo’te donning an eclectic mix of different armors. Their hair was pale yellow and gathered high in a messy tail that brushed against the shaft of a lance. A bright scar streaked across their face from their right jaw and disappearing beneath their hair at their left temple.

As they drew closer, Azayaka could see the spring in their step, a literal bounce in their heels, which was a curious thing considering the clear weight of their armor and weapon. Then there was the large satchel that hung on their left side, bouncing oddly against their pauldrons. It reacted as a hard object would and made Azayaka wonder what the stranger carried.

Their eyes flicked up to the stranger’s face to find that they were staring back. Azayaka lifted their head and watched silently as the Miqo’te stopped just at the bottom of the ramp. Their ears twitched and the irises of their mismatched eyes grew wide. “Well, hello there!” they called, a man’s voice bouncing with boyish excitement. “Aren’t you a tall, fine fellow?”

“La’mone Tia, leave your roguish charms to easier prey,” Nymiene was heard chastising. Azayaka turned their head to see her crossing her arms. “Our bodyguard will have nothin’ to do with you, trust me.”

“Oh, a bodyguard, hmm?” Azayaka spied a smirk aimed their way as the Miqo’te ascended the ramp. They then turned their attention to Nymiene. “And where was this bodyguard when Aisthgar and I pulled your asses out of the fire?” This earned La'mone a light punch to his jaw as soon as he was within arms-length of the Elezen.

“We only have two bodyguards for all of the Ironworks, ya sun-bleached coeurl,” she said, a playful tone ringing in her voice. “They were both otherwise occupied, so Aergfloh and I rolled the dice.”

Azayaka narrowed their eyes, aware of the instance the two spoke of. The two of them had been lucky, but it had been too close. Azayaka and Fraideoux had suggested fewer field teams and no more accompanying deliveries, but both Cid and Ebrelnaux had insisted that fewer field teams could not be afforded. Change was stirring and there were things afoot that had to be accounted for. Azayaka had a feeling that Cid knew more than he was letting on, but had stopped confiding in his bodyguard nearly a year ago…

La'mone Tia left Nymiene to her readings after exchanging a few more bits of banter, including a pointed comment from her about him being the Maelstrom’s “messenger boy” to which La’mone insisted the title belonged to the aforementioned Aisthgar: La’mone was merely doing him a favor. He gave Aergfloh a wave before making his way to Ebrelnaux, who had wandered to the far edge of the platform. They took slow, deliberate steps toward the same edge as La'mone engaged the foreman in a conversation which included reaching into the satchel.

“…A magitek receiver! Do you know how long we have tried to obtain one of these?” Ebrelnaux turned to La'mone then, a sizable piece of magitek now in his hands. “Years! Hundreds of failed missions into imperial territory… And then, quite by chance, an adventurer-for-hire stumbles across one on a mission to ambush imperial deserters!?” La'mone shrugged, a lopsided grin plastered upon his face.

“One could find it rather convenient,” Azayaka said, stepping protectively beside Ebrelnaux. Their narrowed eyes moved between the piece of magitek and its Miqo’te benefactor.

“Ah, Azayaka, absolutely but there is no harm here,” the foreman said quickly. He turned and stepped between the taller bodyguard and shorter adventurer. “I was informed ahead from Limsa Lominsa that he was to come bearing gifts. There is nothing of suspect here.” Azayaka tilted their head to him before stepping away.

“Awfully suspicious, isn’t he?” they heard La'mone say as they walked away.

“ _They_ are very good at their job,” Ebrelnaux said. “Now, I shall begin deciphering the imperial code immediately and will inform the Admiral upon completion.”

Azayaka found themselves a clear space along the edge of the landing to sit upon and resumed their vigil over the vast landscape of the eastern lowlands of Coerthas. Their left arm was still rested upon their katana, fingers still rolling the broken pine needle. Their right hand pressed down onto the stone beside them only briefly before discovering a few stray needles there. They picked one up and proceeded to roll it between their fingers.

“So, your bodyguard…”

“I told you, La'mone Tia, it won’t happen.”

Azayaka tilted their head, glancing just slightly back to catch the pale-haired Miqo’te speaking with Nymiene.

“Oh come now, I’m more persistent than that,” La'mone chuckled. This earned a shove from Nymiene. “I mean, I need to at least talk to him-”

“- _They_ won’t,” Nymiene interrupted. “ _They_ rarely speak with us. _They_ haven’t shown any sort of interest in anyone in seven years of being with the Ironworks, haven’t gone out for drinks with any of the crew, haven’t even told a joke. Trust me, some of us have tried.” At that, Nymiene tossed her hair over her shoulder.

“Oh, you got spurned?” La'mone gasped. A gauntlet crossed his breastplate in his shock. “Say it isn’t so!”

“I wouldn’t say spurned, exactly... But there’s no reciprocation… Toward me or anyone.” She shrugged. “So it’s best not to try.”

“Ah, but I _could_ be the one for _them_.” At that, La'mone turned and caught Azayaka’s glance. He smiled hopefully, mismatched eyes narrowing as his tail curled. In response, Azayaka narrowed their eyes and turned away, their own tail wrapping around their waist. Nymiene’s laughter resounded loudly, accompanied by the sound of her hand smacking her thighs.

“I told you!” she guffawed. “I told you! I told- Whoa!” Azayaka spun around at Nymiene’s shout. They just saw her grasping for the last bits of La'mone’s tail as he disappeared over the edge of the windmill and into the pine tree beside it. They jumped up and ran to the edge as the sound of metal clanging stole both Ebrelnaux and Aergfloh from their work.

“By the Twelve, what is all this racket!?” Ebrelnaux shouted as he stormed over.

“La'mone took a topple,” Nymiene said with a shrug. They all peered over the edge but couldn’t see the Miqo’te for the pine tree. Azayake swiftly ran down the ramp and around to the base of the tree where they found La'mone slowly picking himself up.

Every crevice of his mismatched armor had a mixture of dried and fresh pine needles sticking out of it. Azayaka doubted those were the needles causing his wincing expression, however. Rather, the likely culprits were the ones in the fur of his tail and ears as well as his hair. As though to confirm their suspicion, La'mone reached up with a shaky hand and began to aggressively scratch at his scalp.

As the man before them seemed no worse of the fall, Azayaka relaxed. “Need you assistance?” they asked. La'mone jumped, his tail sticking straight up and shaking most of the needles from it.

“Gods, you’re quiet,” he said. “Never knew someone so tall to be so…” He dropped his head and slowly pushed himself up. “I’m going to be so itchy now.” He trembled as he moved and Azayaka felt the need to aid him. They stepped to him in two long strides and took his arm, hoisting him up with easy. He yelped at the sudden jolt, then looked up at Azayaka as a blush spread across his cheeks.

“You tremble,” Azayaka said in explanation, letting his arm go.

“I’m _terribly_ itchy,” he whined pitifully. He took a step and began shaking his entire body, letting loose as many pine needles as he could. As he did, Azayaka could smell the scent of the pine rising. “Ugh, I can never face Nymiene again…” He sniffed and then shuddered, his body wrenching as though to retch. “That smell is… So powerful; I need a bath!”

“Hey! La'mone! Still alive then?” Azayaka turned their head up in response to Nymiene’s call. “Thought you had better balance than that! What with being a Miqo’te and being a lancer of your skill.”

“I think we’ve had enough of distraction,” Ebrelnaux could be heard saying then. “If you’ve no further need of us, Private La'mone, we’ve work to return to.”

Azayaka dropped their head to La'mone. The Miqo’te still trembled, head hung and hands clenched. “Aye, so this is me,” he said lowly, the boyish tones from before now gone. “La'mone the Foolhardy, all bluster and no ground to hold himself up on.” He looked up, eyes fixed in the distance. “Hmm, I don’t suppose the pitiable lancer is something that attracts you?”

Azayaka crossed their arms. “You would seek to court me even after being warned against it?” they asked incredulously. La'mone chuckled and shrugged.

“Can’t blame a desperate guy for trying,” he said. A hint of his boyish tone returned. “Ah, and I can’t help myself. Tall, handsome men-” He paused and looked to catch Azayaka’s narrowed gaze. “Or otherwise such masculine individuals- are very much mine weakness.” He flashed a toothy grin briefly. “Ah, but I shall take my leave. You have a job to do and I shall push mine interest no further.” He sniffed again and winced. “A hot bath in Gridania calls to me.”

Azayaka nodded their head to him. He gave them a wave before setting off, walking toward the western path out of Millers’ Glade. Azayaka watched him as they slowly made their way back around and up to the windmill. Once he was out of sight, they brought up the pine needle from between their fingers and braced it between their thumb and middle finger.

The needle was warm from having been rolled and held so long. It bent farther than the last, springier than most, before finally splitting and releasing the aroma within. Before turning within the sight of the crew, Azayaka waved the broken needle in front of their face, basking in the sharp, fresh scent. It was calming, a respite from the brief chaos of their guest that they somehow felt was a sign of things to come.

**Author's Note:**

> For a bit of backstory, La'mone is of the La Tribe that I created solely for him. The La Tribe established themselves in Radz-at-Han after having branched off from the L Tribe.


End file.
